Chapter 10: The Last Royal Broadcast
By the time the King prepared to address his people one final time, Palm Beachonia was already mostly dark.
The Wall, once a glittering crown around the kingdom, had begun to crumble.
The golden paint peeled in great strips, flapping like dead flags in the salt-heavy air.
Monster trucks sat abandoned in the streets, their once-proud banners drooping like wilted flowers.
The Freedom Markets were empty, save for puddles of rainwater and scattered pamphlets still proclaiming:
"Victory is Here - Eat More Freedom Jerky!"
RoyalNet, once the lifeblood of national delusion, sputtered along at a fraction of its former glory.
Blackouts roamed from sector to sector.
Screens flickered.
Signal strength was measured in vague approximations:
"Mostly working," "Kind of working," and "Sadness detected."
In the Royal Keep - where damp had begun seeping up the marble floors and the power flickered every few minutes - King Donald the First summoned his remaining court for one fin…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Touchonian to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.